


your blinding light

by asael



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bondage, Dom Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, M/M, Praise Kink, Restraints, Sub Claude von Riegan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asael/pseuds/asael
Summary: Claude's trust is a rare and valuable thing, and Dimitri will never treat it as anything less than the gift it is.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 180
Collections: Dimiclaude Wild Weekend





	your blinding light

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Dimiclaude Wild Weekend Day 3!

Claude is waiting when Dimitri returns from his meeting.

Dimitri expects that, of course. There’s nowhere else that Claude could be, and yet still somehow the first sight of him - in exactly the place Dimitri left him - is a surprise. As if it hadn’t been real, as if it had been some kind of elaborate fantasy Dimitri had created for himself.

But no. Claude is far better than any fantasy Dimitri could come up with on his own.

He’s right where Dimitri left him, wrists tied securely to the bedpost, kneeling on the thick rug with his ankles together and knees held apart by the bar between them. It’s an uncomfortable position, deliberately so, and Dimitri is sure that the muscles of Claude’s thighs must ache from being forced to hold himself up for so long. But he makes a pretty picture, especially without a stitch of clothing on. Despite everything, he is half-hard - Dimitri can see it easily with Claude’s knees spread like that. 

Dimitri enters quickly, to ensure that no nosy passers-by can catch sight of Claude. Then he simply stands in front of the closed door for a moment, looking at Claude.

The meeting hadn’t been a long one, or very important - just a discussion with an agricultural minister about crop yields. That had been on purpose, of course. This was the first time they’d done something like this, and Dimitri had wanted the freedom to leave immediately if Claude needed him. And - of course - he had known that he’d be unable to give the meeting his full attention, when half his mind was on Claude, waiting here for him.

Claude hadn’t needed him. The enchanted bell that would have alerted Dimitri if it had been dropped is still securely in Claude’s hand. As uncomfortable as it must have been, Claude hasn’t decided to end things early, hasn’t changed his mind.

But then, he rarely does. Since they’d begun this, Claude has only called a halt to their games two or three times, when he truly could not take anymore. It’s Dimitri who usually falters, worrying he’s pushing Claude too far, worrying that he might not know his own limits. And Claude always reassures him with a laugh that if anyone knows their own limits, it’s him.

Sometimes Dimitri still is not certain that’s true, given how affected by their games Claude can be, but he trusts Claude more than any creature walking the earth. He’s beginning to realize, now, that being pushed over the edge is what Claude wants. That he needs it, because he finds it difficult to lose control any other way, and the release that comes with it is something he craves.

Dimitri can only feel honored to be the one Claude trusts with such vulnerability.

Honored and - frankly - aroused.

He lets his eyes rove over Claude again. The tension in his muscles, the way Claude is looking back at him hungrily. He can’t speak, not with that gag in his mouth, and Dimitri likes the way it looks. But then, he always likes the way Claude looks.

He crosses the space between them and reaches down, running his fingers through Claude’s hair. “You’ve been good for me, haven’t you.” Claude makes a soft sound, muffled by the gag, but Dimitri thinks it’s agreement.

Claude likes it when Dimitri talks to him. It felt strange at first, awkward, a little embarrassing, but as soon as Dimitri realized just how much Claude liked it, that began to fall away. Now it’s easy. It’s easy to tell Claude what a good boy he is, how obedient and lovely, because of course it’s all true.

Well. Not _obedient_ , maybe. That’s a bit of a stretch. But Claude makes a good stab at it during their games, even if he’s begun to test Dimitri’s control from time to time. Dimitri knows he does it for the pleasure of being corrected, of being punished. It’s all part of this, this strange thing that they both seem to love.

Outside of these walls, Dimitri has no hope of ever controlling Claude. He would not try, and certainly would not succeed if he did. But here, when it’s just the two of them - 

Claude belongs to him.

Claude moves, stretching up just enough to arch into his touch like a cat being petted. Dimitri lets his hand drift downward, thumb brushing over Claude’s lips where they’re stretched around the gag.

“You’ve been almost good enough to earn a reward,” Dimitri says. Claude makes another soft noise, lashes lowering over his hungry eyes. He’s still holding himself in place, and Dimitri makes no move to free him. He unfastens his pants instead, just enough to get out his cock. He’s not hard yet.

It’s only then that he reaches out. He doesn’t untie Claude’s hands, doesn’t free him from the bar that holds his legs in place. He likes Claude right where he is. All that he removes is the gag, pulling it from Claude’s mouth carefully and letting it fall to the floor. Claude’s lips are red and spit-slick, and Dimitri allows him to work his jaw for only a moment before he steps closer.

“Give me your mouth,” Dimitri says. For a moment, Claude grins up at him, a sly thing, and Dimitri thinks he’ll have to coax Claude into it - punish him in small ways until he obeys - but then Claude opens his mouth so that Dimitri can place his cock inside.

Claude’s mouth stretches around him. The sight of it alone is enough to arouse.

“If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to get me hard first,” Dimitri says, tangling his hand in Claude’s hair. It’s mostly a bluff, and they both know it. Dimitri will get hard with barely any work from Claude when he has Claude at his mercy like this. But it’s a part of the game, and Dimitri catches his breath as Claude’s mouth begins to work on him.

Claude can’t use his hands, can’t move from where he’s tied to the heavy bedframe, so he can’t use any more elaborate tricks. All he can do is slide his tongue along the underside of Dimitri’s cock, and bob his head, and hollow out his cheeks as he sucks like he’s never wanted anything more in his life. It’s a gorgeous sight, and Dimitri can’t look away.

“You’re so good at that,” he says, remembering to talk. Remembering how much Claude likes to hear his voice. He’s hardening quickly, between the sight of Claude like this and the mouth working around him. “You were made for this, made to have me in your mouth.”

His hand, still tangled in Claude’s hair, tugs roughly. It draws a shameless moan from Claude, muffled by the dick in his mouth, and Dimitri is pleased to see Claude’s own cock standing at attention. It juts out between his legs, a drop of fluid on the tip. “And you like it, too. Truly, you are exceptional on your knees. If only everyone knew just how talented you are.”

Keeping hold of Claude’s hair, Dimitri moves his hips. He’s careful at first so that Claude isn’t surprised when he presses deeper, thrusts slowly into his mouth. Claude’s eyes widen only for a moment, and then he’s relaxing, letting Dimitri press into him. Those lips stretch wide around Dimitri’s cock, taking everything he gives. Dimitri is mesmerized.

Claude moans low around him, the vibration of it sending a roll of pleasure through Dimitri. “Let’s see how much you can take,” he says, and then he begins to move. 

He stays slow at first, drawing back until only the head of his cock is in Claude and then thrusting in again, filling his mouth. He wants to be sure Claude can take it - they’ve done this before, but not while Claude was tied. But Claude only moans, the bell held tightly in his hand, and Dimitri begins to move faster. He can’t help it - Claude’s mouth is hot and wet and perfect, and Dimitri knows Claude can take him, knows Claude _likes_ this.

Soon he is fucking Claude’s mouth, almost as roughly as he likes to fuck Claude’s hole, if not quite so deep. Claude can do nothing but take it, and take it he does, muffled whimpers filling the air along with Dimitri’s own gasps of pleasure. Dimitri could come like this, and part of him wants to, part of him wants to come down Claude’s throat and see if he can swallow it all. But he wants more, too, and he did promise Claude more - so long as he was good.

Claude has been very good.

Dimitri pulls out, leaving Claude gasping and wrecked. His chin is streaked with drool, his lips red, his breath coming hard. Dimitri lets go of his hair, grasps his chin instead, tilting his head up while wiping off some of that slick fluid with his thumb.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” 

He knows that Claude does, but he waits, meeting that emerald gaze with his own, waiting for Claude to catch his breath.

“Yes,” Claude says finally. He’s still breathless, and his voice is hoarse too. Dimitri feels a twinge of concern. Has he been too rough? No. Claude would have stopped him.

“Yes what?” he says, and Claude’s lips curl into a cheeky grin.

“Yes, I’ve been very good, and I deserve a reward,” he says.

Dimitri swallows the smile that threatens to appear. It’s not part of the game, even if he’s sure that Claude can see it in his eyes. He’s always loved Claude’s playful side.

“Do you need me to teach you how to ask nicely?” he says. He drags his eyes over Claude, his tense muscles, his eager cock. After a moment’s pause, considering, he slides his booted foot between Claude’s spread legs. He presses it to Claude’s arousal, pressure just on the edge of pain. 

Claude’s choked gasp is beautiful. His hips jerk. Dimitri can tell Claude wants to rut against him, and for a moment he considers allowing it. Then, instead, he presses harder for the simple pleasure of hearing another gasp. “Well?”

Claude drags in a breath, visibly keeping himself from moving against Dimitri’s boot. His cheeky smile is gone, replaced with a need that makes Dimitri ache. “Yes, please,” he says. “Please fuck me.”

Dimitri could draw it out. He could make Claude whimper and moan and beg, and there is more than a little appeal to that. But he’s been thinking of Claude for so long now, wanting him, knowing that he was here waiting. He’s hard and eager and he wants this as much as Claude does.

He still waits, though, just for a moment longer. Claude’s eyes widen in something halfway between surprise and frustration. “Dimitri, _please._ I need you so bad. I need you in me.”

And that’s impossible to resist.

Dimitri unhooks Claude’s wrists from the bedposts, though he does not untie them. He doesn’t wait for Claude to struggle to his feet, either. He just lifts Claude bodily, manhandles him onto the bed, and holds him down while he removes the bar holding his knees apart.

Claude makes a sound, a hungry little groan that goes right to Dimitri’s cock. And how could it not? This is how it all started, after all.

They’d been so careful with each other at first. Dimitri hadn’t even known what he wanted, not really - except for Claude. He’d always wanted Claude. But then they’d been together one night, so caught up in each other, and without realizing it Dimitri had held Claude’s wrists down on the mattress as they fucked. Claude had been unable to move, unable to even really struggle.

When Dimitri realized what he’d been doing he’d wanted to pull away, to apologize, to hate himself for how forceful he was being - how domineering. But Claude had only met his eye, and smiled, and said “But I liked it.”

They’d talked about it later, which hadn’t been easy for Dimitri, who found it incredibly embarrassing and difficult to put his desires into words. But Claude made it easier - his understanding and apparent lack of shame eventually convinced Dimitri that he could want anything, ask for anything, and Claude wouldn’t be horrified.

They’d started small. Dimitri let himself use his strength, stopped worrying about whether Claude was put off by it - it helped that Claude made it crystal clear just how much he enjoyed it when Dimitri manhandled him. 

Their games progressed from there, slowly but surely. Claude confessed his desire to be vulnerable, and Dimitri his fear of going too far, hurting Claude or losing himself. They set limits, then carefully passed them. Dimitri learned how to ask for what he wanted, and Claude learned how to let himself go.

Every encounter is a display of trust that Dimitri wishes to treat with the reverence it deserves. He knows now that Claude has never trusted anyone else with this, that he had always been living with an unmet need, denying himself what he wants out of fear. And Dimitri is no different.

He feared, too. He feared what it meant that he liked the power he had over Claude, he feared that he would misuse it.

But he knows better now. He still does worry sometimes, especially when they’re doing something they’ve never done before. But he trusts Claude unreservedly, trusts him to stop things if they go too far, trusts him to set boundaries. It sometimes feels impossible that he has Claude’s trust in return, but he knows that it’s true.

He presses Claude’s bound wrists to the mattress and spreads his legs. Retrieving the oil from their bedside table takes less than a moment, and Claude stays where he has been placed - obedient, at least for the moment. 

Dimitri settles back between his legs, considers whether to turn him over and take him from behind, face pressed to the sheets. But he wants to see Claude gasp, wants to hear him cry out. He runs his hands up Claude’s thighs, noting the fading tension there. He’ll ache later from staying in that kneeling position for so long.

Dimitri would like to make him ache in more places than that. He likes to leave marks, likes to know that Claude will be unable to forget their encounters for days afterwards.

He hooks a hand under Claude’s knee, spreading him wider as his other hand, now coated in oil, begins working Claude’s hole.

He’s not careful, not gentle. Neither of them have the patience for that right now, and he thinks it doesn’t suit the game. Claude is his right now, and that means Dimitri can use him as he pleases.

The thought of that makes Dimitri’s stomach twist in arousal. “You’re mine,” he says. Claude bites his lip, presses against Dimitri’s fingers eagerly.

“Yes,” Claude says, all breathless agreement and need. It snaps something in Dimitri, that last tiny bit of control he’s been clinging to. He shoves Claude back against the sheets and lines himself up, pressing the head of his cock to Claude’s hole. He doesn’t press in yet - he takes in the sight of Claude under him, wrists still tied, legs spread, cock dripping against his stomach. His hand is still tightly curled around the bell.

All his.

He thrusts into Claude. He’s not careful, pushing his entire length into the man beneath him in one long, slow movement. Claude is slick, but Dimitri didn’t bother to stretch him much, so he knows it must hurt - but the way Claude cries out and arches makes it clear that he welcomes it.

“Yes,” he moans, his voice still rough, “yes, Dimitri, please, _Goddess_ -“

“Look at you,” Dimitri says. His own voice is rough with desire now. “So lovely.”

Claude flushes, because it doesn’t seem to matter how many times Dimitri says things like that or what they’re doing. He’s never entirely prepared. He’s said before that it’s because Dimitri’s honesty is so clear, because it never feels like empty flattery. That’s only made Dimitri want to say it more, to fill Claude’s heart with his praise.

“And you take me so well,” he says. “Like you were made for it. For _me._ ”

Claude moans. “Dimitri, please -“

It’s always so sweet to hear him beg. Sometimes Dimitri draws things out for the sheer pleasure of turning Claude into a complete mess than can do nothing but beg, but he doesn’t have the patience for that this time. He starts moving, fucking into Claude, drawing out a moan with each thrust.

Claude is so close already, Dimitri can hear it in his voice, see it in the way his whole body tenses every time Dimitri’s cock slides against that spot inside him.

“You’ve been so good,” Dimitri says. He’s breathless now too. “Come for me, darling. Let me see you lose control.”

He matches word to action. The hand that isn’t hooked under Claude’s knee wraps around his cock, and he strokes once, twice, and then Claude is coming with a choked cry.

He’s lost in it, gasping as pleasure floods his body, and Dimitri loses himself in that hot, tight pressure. He fucks Claude harder, chasing his own pleasure, using the body beneath him, his lover, his possession.

He comes deep in Claude, filling him, the intensity of it breaking over him like a wave.

Afterward, all that Dimitri can do for a moment is breathe, exist, try to find himself again. His gaze traces Claude’s lovely, limp form, finally relaxed beneath him. Once he can breathe again he pulls out, strokes a thumb over Claude’s lips to be sure he’s all right. Claude barely blinks, but his lips curve into a faint smile, and Dimitri is reassured.

He likes all of it, everything they do together, but it might be that he likes this part best of all. He unties Claude’s wrists and presses his lips to the skin there, the marks that the rope made. It was deliberate - they both like it when there are marks afterwards - but even so he knows it must sting. So he stands, retrieves a basin of water, a clean cloth, and a soothing salve.

He takes care of Claude. Claude lets him, and maybe that’s why Dimitri likes it so much - Claude has never quite gotten in the habit of letting anyone take care of him. He’s not rude about it, not prickly, but normally he’ll laugh off concern. He’ll tell Dimitri not to go out of his way to bring him food when he’s busy, not to bother draping a cloak over his shoulders when it’s cold, because doesn’t Dimitri need that? The few times he’s gotten sick, he holes up and tells no one about it, only emerging when he feels well enough, never asking for help or for someone else to care for him. Certainly never expecting it.

_You really don’t need to worry about that sort of thing,_ he’ll say, _I’m perfectly fine._ And then he’ll smile, and Dimitri hasn’t yet found the right way to insist on it.

Because he wants to do those things for Claude. He likes it. He knows that once he’s gathered the courage to tell Claude so, Claude will bend, will allow it - he always does - but somehow it’s easier to admit that he likes tying Claude up and fucking him until he cries than it is to admit that he likes wiping away his tears after, holding him close, tending to him.

So for now, Dimitri simply enjoys these moments. He cleans up the traces of his own release and Claude’s, rubs the salve into the marks around Claude’s wrists. He rubs it into the muscles of Claude’s legs as well, in hopes that they won’t be so sore tomorrow. He cleans himself up, and then he pulls Claude into his arms and curls around him.

It’s surprisingly easy to forget that Claude is so much smaller than him. He has an outsize presence, charisma that fills a room. He’s not skinny - he’s all taut muscle and lithe limbs - but Dimitri can wrap himself around Claude so easily, hold Claude close, kiss behind his ear.

And Claude lets him.

“You’re incredible,” Dimitri says, and he kisses the shell of Claude’s ear. “You did so well.”

Claude moves, but only a little, curling back against him and relaxing. “Hmm.” It’s a soft sound, meaningless. Claude is always softer afterwards, drifting in a tide of pleasure and satisfaction. But then, Dimitri is no different. “You take such good care of me.”

It’s an artless compliment, unlike Claude’s usual teasing, words carefully chosen to make Dimitri blush. That makes it all the more effective.

“I love you,” Dimitri says. He nuzzles into Claude’s hair, thinks about the trust Claude has given him. Thinks about how he never believed anyone would trust him so much, especially not someone like Claude, someone cautious and clever. 

Claude would never trust someone who might hurt him. It’s a simple fact. Dimitri believes this wholly, utterly, with all of himself. And Claude trusts _him_ \- trusts Dimitri to hold his vulnerability in his hands, push him to the edge. Break him, even, but never let him shatter. 

And it follows, of course, that if Claude trusts him, then Dimitri deserves that trust.

It changed his world when he realized that. Rearranged it into something new, into a world where he might not be a monster. Where his strength, and even the desire to control and dominate and conquer that he has struggled so hard to stamp out, might not be the horrible thing he’s always believed.

He loves Claude for giving him that gift, and for a thousand other reasons.

“I love you, too,” Claude says. His voice is soft, drifting. He’s probably falling asleep. He’s limp and boneless in Dimitri’s arms, absolutely relaxed.

Dimitri lets his eyes slide shut. In this moment, he wants only to dream of Claude.


End file.
